Complications Part I
by LuvWhatUDo
Summary: John and Kem make a decision that puts them directly in the middle of the Congolese Civil War. Will that decision cost one or both of them their lives?
1. Chapter 1 Much Too Young

Background:

This story is written in line with the events portrayed in the last 2 episodes of Season 11 (e.g., "Carter Est Ameroux" and "The Show Must Go On").

Since the location for this story is the Congo, I tried to involve characters who appeared in the Congo-related episodes from the 9th and 10th seasons. Specifically the following people are reintroduced to the reader:

Angelique – Indian born Chief Physician and Primary Surgeon at the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) funded clinic in Kisangani.

Charles – European man in his late-30s who studied in Texas and is in charge of supplies and logistics at the ICRC clinic in Kisangani

Debbie – ICRC aid worker from the U.S.A, who is an experienced pilot and a brief, former girlfriend of Dr. John Carter.

There are also a few new characters, whose backgrounds are introduced during the course of the story.

Although all of the other stories that I have written, "Once Again", "Tell Me No Lies, and "Will You Trust Me", tie directly into each other, this story is based mainly on the ideas presented in the first chapter of "Once Again".

In summary, it has been 4 months since John joined Kem in the Congo and he is at the ICRC clinic doing some paperwork while he reminisces about the past.

Chapter 1 – Much Too Young

He is still staring out the window of the clinic's small office, when he hears a voice.

"You know, you're much too young to be staring off into space", says a familiar voice in a musical accent.

He looks up to see Kem who, despite her reproachful statement, is smiling at him, and he can't help but smile back.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asks with a slightly puzzled look on his face.

"Umm…long enough," she says pleasantly. "I presume that you were thinking about something important", she says as she crosses the room and lightly sits on the edge of the desk.

"Yeah", he says mysteriously.

"Well, I also presume that if you were having second thoughts about everything, you would let me know."

"It is most definitely _not_ about second thoughts," he says seriously as he looks into her eyes.

She regards him curiously for a minute before laughing it off and looking around.

"More 'John Does?", she asks as she sees the photos stapled to pieces of paper.

"Yeah…5 more", he says a bit sadly.

"Do you want me to take these and file them with the Ministry of Health?"

"Not just yet. I think that can wait until the end of the week, just in case we get a few more."

"Okay", she says and a bit of sadness has crept into her voice as well. Life in the Congo is oftentimes harsh and full of death, but that's what she and John are working to help change.

"Well, I'm off for the rest of the day," she says switching the conversation to a happier topic. "I was getting ready to go shopping for dinner and I wanted to know if there is anything in particular that you wanted?"

"No, not really. Whatever you get is fine with me. Unless…" he says as he slowly pulls her towards him, "you're asking what I want for dessert?"

She rolls her eyes at his cliché remark, but kisses him passionately nonetheless.

"Ah…so that's why that desk is weak," someone says archly, but in a pleasant Indian accent.

They both turn to see Angelique giving them an amused look.

"You know the walls _are_ sturdier than the desk," she continues in her amused tone as she jokingly suggests a better location for their amorous activities.

Both John and Kem blush.

John looks down and chokes back a laugh as Kem rises from the desk with a look of mock indignation and says, "Alright, I'm leaving now."

She smoothes out her shirt and puts her purse strap firmly on her shoulder as she starts to walk to the door where Angelique is standing.

"I'll see you at dinner?" she asks giving John one last look. He nods his head in assent.

Kem turns and leaves. And as she does, she lovingly tweaks Angelique's chin for her impertinent suggestion.

Both women laugh, and Angelique turns back to John as Kem walks down the hall.

"Are you ready to get to work doctor or are you just going to sit there all day and pout about missed opportunities?" she asks with a grin.


	2. Chapter 2 Hut Sweet Hut

Chapter 2 – Hut Sweet Hut

It is almost dinnertime as John dashes quickly out of the clinic.

The days are getting shorter and dusk has started to fall by the time that he crosses the dusty street and enters the dilapidated building where their apartment is located. He makes his way up the creaking wooden stairs and opens the door to their home.

The fragrant smell of cooking greets him as enters the room. He takes off his jacket, washes his hands in their modest bathroom, and walks over to the stove where Kem is standing.

Hey," he says as he grabs her petite waist and kisses the side of neck. "It smells good." He quickly dips a finger into the simmering sauce and puts the finger in his mouth. "Umm…tastes good too."

She gives him a wry smile and then starts to shake her head back and forth slowly.

"What?" he asks as he gives her one of his boyish grins paired with an innocent shrug of his shoulders.

"I've always known that one of the reasons why you moved in here so quickly after we first started dating was for the cooking."

No, not at all", he says in what he hopes is a believable tone, but he fails miserably and they both share a laugh. After all, it _was_ partially the reason why had moved in so quickly.

Kem was an amazing cook. Her mother believed, like many French people, that eating was not just something that involved shoveling food into one's mouth, rather it was an experience that should tantalize and satisfy all of the senses.

Fabienne had learned to prepare sauces, vegetables, and meats with the skills of a Michelin-rated chef and had passed those techniques on to her daughter.

Even though Kem was not in France or a western country where the ingredients found in French cooking were readily available, she had been able to apply her culinary skills to the local ingredients and had concocted masterpieces in a style that could be called Afro-French cuisine.

He smiles to himself.

To say that her cooking is an improvement over the food prepared at the clinic would be like saying that Chicago is usually only a bit warm in the summer.

"Do you need me to do anything?" he offers.

"You can peel and julienne the plantains," she says as she gestures towards the small kitchen table that sits directly opposite the stove.

John sits down and starts peeling and cutting the plantains. Kem stirs her sauce and starts heating oil in a frying pan. She turns and glances quickly over John's shoulder. She smiles slightly as she sees him working.

Coming from an affluent background, followed up by the life of a busy medical student had combined to make cooking a foreign experience for John. But he had been a fast learner, and she couldn't help but be proud as she watched him apply his surgical skills to cutting the food into perfectly even strips.

She takes the plantain, fries them, and then arranges them on 2 plates with the sauce and vegetables that she had been cooking earlier.

Before she lays the plates on the table, she finishes them off with a bit of garnish for decorative flair, and takes a seat opposite of John.

"You know," he starts, "dinner doesn't always have to be so…elaborate."

"Nonsense," she replies lightly. "There should be at least one meal of the day when you get to enjoy the full pleasure of eating and enjoy the company and discussion of the people you love."

He shakes his head as he thinks about how he can count on one hand the number of times that he and his parents had sat down for dinner with the intent of enjoying both the meal and each others presence.

He almost chuckles, but as he looks at her sitting across from him, he says the one thought that has really come to mind. "I love you", he says suddenly and seriously. Every day that he spends with her, reminds him more and more of all the things that he missed growing up – love between a husband and wife, a stable family life – and all the things that he wants to provide.

They start to eat dinner while they discuss the day's events and joke at their own follies.


	3. Chapter 3 Danger Approaches

Chapter 3 – Danger Approaches

John walks over to their modest CD/radio and inserts his copy of Les Nubiens, before he walks over to Kem.

She is wearing her night clothes, a powder blue t-shirt with spaghetti straps and a pair of white panties, and he quickly strips down into his t-shirt and boxers before he lies down beside her and pulls her into his arms.

This is how they usually spend their nights. Most of the time they do not need to speak. They are absolutely content and comfortable to hold each other and listen to music or the sounds of the city as the night's coolness washes over them.

Tonight, as they fall asleep, he reflects on their life together.

The time with her so far had passed quickly, almost unnoticeably. Days had melted into weeks and their life together was seamless.

He knew what to expect from her every morning, every day, every evening.

It wasn't that she was predictable and had a specific routine for each action. She didn't wake up in the mornings and in the same order every day put on her slippers, brush her teeth, eat breakfast, dress, and brush her teeth again. Thankfully, their lives were not as mundane and obsessive-compulsive as that.

But he knew that when she woke she would move in a certain way and stretch in a certain way. That when she spoke she would have a way of expressing herself that was both sophisticated and girlishly delightful. In fact, he liked to think that her girlish mannerisms matched well with his boyish face and sometimes mischievous behavior.

He loved that they could do completely different things during the day, come back together at night, and share their experiences so that it was if they had spent the day together. All of these things had combined to make a life that he found enjoyable and fulfilling. .

In fact, he was so at ease with her that it wasn't until he had received a letter from Weaver informing him that the Joshua Carter Clinic would officially open in June of the new year that he realized that four months had passed since he had last been in Chicago.

He smiles.

Time seems to pass differently here. It is not controlled by numbers on a clock or succinctly written entries stacked tightly on top of each other in a PDA so as to squeeze each minute out of every day.

Rather, in the Congo, time is measured in terms of one's feelings and motivations.

For John, the contrast between time in the States and time here could not be more significant.

In both locations, he feels as if he is a ship and time is the sea.

In Chicago, that ship constantly battled the waves of time as it hurried to mount their crests in order to avoid being crushed by the force of them.

But here, in the Congo, his ship bounced in a natural rhythm with the waves' motions thus giving him a chance to smile and enjoy the ride.

At least that's the way it was on most days.

It wasn't that people were fundamentally better here than in the States. In fact, the people here wanted the same things as people back home. They wanted to get up in the mornings and enjoy the presence of their families and friends, eat a satisfying meal, work, and love life at its opening and its close.

However, in the Congo, the majority of people were willing, happy even, to accept life's simplicities. There was no pressure for the latest SUV, or botox injection, or sports club membership. Most people just let things happen in their own time, and that gave him the impression of living _with _time instead of working to outrun it.

At least that's the way it was on most days.

But as John falls asleep, he has forgotten one important thing: change is a constant.

And, although John, Kem, and most of the city's residents are unaware of what the near future will bring, change _is_ coming to Kisangani.

This change will be as powerful as anything caused by a fierce tropical rainstorm's torrential downpour.

In fact, the booms heard a few hundred miles away are not the sounds of approaching thunder, rather they are the echoes of crude bombs and grenades as the rebel forces near the city.


	4. Chapter 4 Don't Fence Me In

Chapter 4 – Don't Fence Me In

A few days later, John and Kem are eating their traditional breakfast of pastries and coffee, as they get some reading and writing in before heading off to work.

"Hmmm…," Kem sighs, and she starts to drum the fingers of her right hand absent-mindedly on the table. She is staring intently at the piece of paper on which she has been writing for the last few minutes.

John looks up from his book, wondering why she had made that sound. He watches with curiosity as the crease on her forehead deepens. For the last five days, she has been working on a letter and she seems as frustrated as ever. Normally, he chooses to remain silent while she works out her writer's block, but this time he feels the need to offer his assistance.

"Is that the same letter that you've been working on for the last few days?" he asks.

"Um-hmm", she replies curtly.

"Would you like some help?" he says with boyish charm. He reaches over to pull the letter closer to him, and she quickly jerks it away.

"No, I'm fine", she says stiffly.

He looks at her and he is genuinely puzzled by her behavior. She seems distant and a bit troubled.

"Are you sure?" he says lightly, hoping that his tone will get her to open up to him. "You know, I'm not that bad of a writer."

"Yeah…yeah I'm fine", she responds as she shakes her head and refuses to look him in the eye. "It's just...uhm…one section that I can't seem to get the way that I want, but I'm sure I'll get it."

"So how is your reading coming?" she asks in a pleasant up-beat tone as she folds the letter and places it in her bag.

The change in conversation and tone catch John off guard. He stares at her for another second before deciding to shake off his unease. It's probably nothing he thinks and he let's the issue go.

"Ah…good. It's coming along good", he answers. "You know", he continues, "I was thinking that tonight we could eat dinner at the clinic and then go over to Karibu's."

Karibu was the favorite place to gather for all of the clinic's workers. It was also a special place for John and Kem because that was where they had first met.

"Is there a celebration planned for tonight?" she asks curiously. Today wasn't a holiday in Kisangani or even in any of the countries where their friends were from, so it was a bit odd to suggest going there tonight.

"No, nothing special. It's just that everybody is itching to get together and have some fun", he answers.

"Hmmm...Well, I don't see why not. Let's do that", she says eagerly and they begin to clear the table and leave for work.

"Since it's Friday, did you want me to come by and get those 'John Doe' records this afternoon so that I can file them?" she asks as they descend the stairs and make their way onto the street.

"That's a good idea. Why don't you come around 2:00?"

"Okay", she says. They kiss lightly on the lips before going separate directions to work.

30 minutes later, John enters the clinic and nods robotically at familiar faces.

His mind is on other things as he walks towards the operating room so that he can start his shift.

Angelique looks up from her familiar and tedious task of sanitizing previously worn surgical gloves as he enters.

"So are we on for tonight?" she asks.

"Yeah", he says with a wide grin.

"Does she know what you intend to do?"

"No. No, I'm pretty sure that it's going to be a big surprise", he says as his smile widens even more, and his smile is infectious. Angelique smiles as well, and then stops as she thinks about what she needs to tell him.

He is so happy that Angelique feels guilty about having to say what she says next, but she knows that she has to say it.

She can't bear the thought of him being embarrassed on what should be one of the happiest days of his life.


	5. Chapter 5 Defib

Chapter 5 – Defib

"Do you really think that it's a good idea to ask her to marry you in front us?", she asks cautiously.

"Yeah", he says. "I mean I can't take her to a fancy restaurant because there aren't any here. And getting down on one knee in the moonlight seems too cliché for either of us, so this feels like a good option", he says with a good-natured shrug of his shoulders. "Besides, I want to share this moment with friends who are like family."

Angelique smiles briefly as John mentions how emotionally close he feels to her and some of the other workers at the clinic, but her smile is quickly replaced by her former look of concern.

For the first time since he's entered the room, John _really_ looks at Angelique and he sees her discomfort.

"What?" he asks.

"Well, it may be nothing", she says cautiously. "It's just that Kem never seemed like she wanted to settle down."

He is caught off guard by that comment. "Ah…what…what do you mean? She had a baby, and…"

"Yes, but that was an accident. Your proposal isn't the same thing."

John stares at her in disbelief, uncertain of how he should respond.

He draws his eyebrows closer together and he asks slowly, "Has Kem said anything to you?"

"No. It's just that it seems as if she enjoys being," Angelique shrugs her shoulders as she searches for the right word. "Unencumbered", she says finally.

"Unencumbered," he says almost disbelievingly. He had never thought of Angelique's scenario as a possibility, but then again it might explain all of Kem's earlier refusals.

He is about to ask Angelique another question, when a familiar voice with a faint German accent moans, "Oh, God."

John turns and sees that Charles is back from his morning run for supplies, and he has brought a guest.

Debbie follows Charles into the room. She has pulled her blond hair back and it is clasped in its customary location. She is also wearing sensible clothes for the climate: a pair of khakis and a light brown linen shirt.

"Don't listen to Angelique", Charles tells John wearily as he walks to a cabinet and adds something to its contents. "After her personal experience with a failed _arranged_ marriage in Calcutta, she doesn't believe that any sane, educated woman would bother with marriage unless she was forced to."

Angelique crosses her arms over her chest, raises her eyebrows and says defiantly, "Well, they wouldn't. What desirable woman would want to allow herself to be imprisoned in a cage of society's expectations when she can live life free and still enjoy the benefits of a relationship without the stereotypical expectations of a marriage?"

John looks at her aghast for a moment, and then gives her an annoyed look as he lets out the breath that he has been holding since their conversation began.

He is greatly relived that Angelique seems to be speaking about _her_ fears and not Kem's.

He gives Angelique one last menacing look, before he walks over to Debbie, and kisses her on both cheeks.

"Deb", he says happily.

"Well, I see they've made you into a Francophile for some things", she says wryly referring to his use of the French manner for greeting people.

"Um…well, I like that custom," he says as he shrugs his shoulders innocently. "I didn't think that you were going to be able to make it."

"The government convinced the ICRC to do a last minute emergency food run to Kisangani, so here I am. Besides, I couldn't miss tonight. _I am_ partially responsible for getting you guys together in the first place."

As she says this, John blushes a little and runs a hand through his hair. He's embarrassed as he remembers how he spent most of the evening staring lustfully at Kem even though Debbie was sitting right beside him.

Debbie smiles at his embarrassment and says, "Buy me a beer tonight and we can call it even."

"Deal", he says firmly.

"So I assume she doesn't know", Debbie says.

"No, she doesn't suspect a thing. That reminds me…She's coming over here this afternoon to pick up some files. So, none of you," and he uses his index finger to indicate everyone in the room, "can act suspiciously or differently. She's very observant. If she sees that something's different, she'll lay into you with a million questions, and the jig will be up."

"Well, I guess that means I'm gone this afternoon," says Charles perkily, "I'm terrible at keeping secrets and playing innocent."

Everyone grins at this.

"Why don't you come with me?" offers Debbie. "You can help me supervise the unloading of the plane's supplies."

He shakes his head in assent, and everyone starts to disperse and get to work.

As John starts to make his rounds, he can still only get half of his mind to remain focused on his job. The other half is focused on trying to calm his heart which is beating faster in nervous anticipation with every passing second.

When Kem walks into the clinic later that afternoon, she finds John playing a memory game with some of the younger patients and children.

She taps him lightly on his shoulder, and he looks at her briefly in surprise. John quickly returns his concentration to the game, but not before he puts an arm around her pulling her gently to his side.

One of the children answers the question correctly, and the others, including John, groan in mock disappointment as they lose the round.

As the children get ready to play a new round, John turns to Kem and asks, "Is it 2:00 already?"

"Afraid so. Apparently time flies for the memory challenged", she says as she jokingly refers to his recent loss.

"Ha", he says dryly.

"Sam", he calls out. "Take over for me while I get some things for Kem." A lanky boy of about 13 or 14 responds and eagerly runs over to the group of children.

John and Kem walk down the hall to the office.

"You know, I forgot to ask you this morning if you had any additional John Does," she says.

"Ah…two more," he says sadly as he stacks the files together and hands them to her.

She gives him a bittersweet smile and says in a firm tone, "One day there will be no more."

He smiles at her attempt at optimism knowing that they both understand that such a day may never come during their lifetimes. Even so, it's still nice to dream.

She takes the files and places them in her bag. "Well, I'm off."

"Do you want some help?" he says shyly as he shuffles his feet and puts his hands in his pockets.

"With filing?" she asks. She recognizes his little boy begging tactic and refuses to let herself be charmed by it this time. "Hmm…It must really be a slow day here", she says derisively. "Thanks but no thanks. I'm pretty sure that I can manage."

"You sure you don't want the company? It's an hour's walk," he says as he tries to charm her one last time.

"I'll be fine", she calls out as she leaves the room. John stares after her.


	6. Chapter 6 The Causalities of War

Chapter 6 – The Causalities Of War

In the 1960s, Kisangani had been important enough to merit direct attention from the capital, and each of the government's major departments had had their own separate building in the city.

But in the year 2005, Kisangani's prestige and the Congolese government's wealth had declined greatly, and now most of the departments were housed in one gigantic, beautiful but decaying building.

The most active departments were those of the Ministry of Health, Ministry of Communication, and Ministry of the Interior – with the latter being the busiest since it was also directly linked to the military.

Kem skips up the grime covered marble stairs until she reaches the Research and Studies office on the 3rd floor. She greets a few colleagues and places her study's progress reports on the Director's desk before she goes downstairs again and enters the Office of the Community.

The official function of the Office of the Community is to act as a triage point between the region's citizens and the different Ministry of Health services. It is the clerks' duty in that office to direct citizens to the department with the resources that could best solve that citizen's problems.

However, since most of the departments did not have any resources, the _real job_ of the Office of the Community's clerks was to listen to citizens health-related complaints, cut them off after a few seconds, and hurry them out the door with empty promises of assistance from the correct departments and/or very real promises of police prosecution if they dared to persist in making future complaints.

As a result, what should have been one of the busiest offices in the city, received only a few naïve or desperate visitors each month.

As Kem enters the Office's front room, the clerks are engaged in their most pressing business of the day: gossip.

When they recognize Kem, they pretend to get back to work, while mumbling greetings in her direction.

Kem's knows that their greetings are, at best, perfunctory and not really sincere in their good intention.

She also knows that while it is true that a few of the clerks are jealous of her because of what they see as her stunning looks and lithe body, the majority of them resent her because instead of staying within the rules established by the system, she dares to challenge those rules and she _seems_ to get away with it.

When John had proposed keeping records of the nameless victims who died at the clinic and storing those records in a location that would be easily accessible to members of the regional community, everyone, including Kem, had laughed.

But, she hadn't been able to stand the look of disappointment that had appeared on his face, so she resolved to ask around and she what she could do.

She had discovered that although the Ministry of Health used to have a facility for storing such records, seven years of almost continuous warfare had robbed the government of that aspect of its humanity, and the room had since been converted into a director's office.

Basically, she had to start from scratch.

For weeks, she lobbied, questioned, lobbied, and questioned some more until everyone decided that the best way to get rid of her was to give her what she wanted.

After all, a room for the dead was a small request, and she had proposed to personally perform all work associated with maintaining those files.

Kem and John were so happy that even when they saw the room's dilapidated condition and meager provisions it had done little to dampen their mood.

The musty smell of the room had almost been overwhelming, its walls were bare rock, and it was filled with cobwebs and menacing looking tropical spiders. But it was also, thankfully, mildew and rat free.

In addition, it was in a perfect location. It was located at the bottom of a stairwell that could only be accessed from the Office of the Community, which made it convenient for citizens to be directed to that space if they were searching for a deceased loved one without having to search through the maze of halls and rooms that constituted the remainder of the building.

Kem descends the second stairwell and opens the room's door. She walks over to the 40-year old filing cabinet and opens her bag.

Since the files do not have any name, they are organized by gender and age group. She knells down and starts to put the files in their proper places. Because she is focused on her task, she doesn't notice that a man has arrived and is leaning casually on one side of the door's frame.

Azel Mkese stands in the doorway and silently observes Kem as she works.

As Deputy Director of the Ministry of Communication, he is one of the ten most important men in Kisangani.

His family administers a small rubber plantation outside of Kinshasa, therefore he comes from a modestly wealthy and modestly influential background.

However, he has greater ambitions.

As such, he studied hard and was admitted into some of the best private schools in Africa. He even studied in Europe.

When his studies concluded, he dutifully returned home to try to acquire an influential post in the Congo - one that, preferably, did not involve military service. After all, even officers are not immune to bullets.

It took two years for the right position to present itself, and when it did he pursued it with the full force of all of his capabilities.

His efforts were rewarded and three months ago he was appointed the Deputy Minister of Communication for the Kisangani region.

Although, many men with his background, would have considered being a Deputy Minister in Kisangani as a form of exile, Azel was smart enough to recognize it for what it really was – an opportunity.

While it was true that the most prestigious posts for Deputy Ministers were in Kinshasa, Azel had found that it was _not _to his best advantage to seek such a position in the capital.

As the war and the economy had worsened, it had become customary over the last few months for full ministers to blame their incompetence and failures on their deputies, who were then either promptly fired or demoted.

But a deputy minister in Kisangani was considered too inconsequential to be a suitable scapegoat for ministers in Kinshasa, which meant that he was safe from that aspect of Congolese politics.

Instead, he could relax, enjoy his regional authority, and bide his time as he looked for the right opportunity that would take him back to the capital as a full director.

From the moment he had first seen Kem, he knew that she would be a key in getting him that opportunity.

Her delicate looks, honey-colored skin, and European pedigree would make the exclusive society of Kinshasa's wealthy elite curious about her and in high demand at various functions and parties, thereby giving _him_ an opportunity to rub shoulders with the country's most influential powerbrokers.

As he stands in the door, he knows his first order of business is to figure out how to win her to his side.

"Don't you look lovely today," he calls out.

Kem is not facing the door so the voice startles her at first, but she immediately recognizes its deep timber and slight African accent.

"But, that is nothing new. Loveliness seems to be your natural state of being", he says smarmily.

Kem is thankful that she skipped lunch as she represses the urge to vomit. Even if she were not involved with John, she would never respond positively to Azel's advances. He was the kind of man who made her skin crawl. He was a cad – she knew from office gossip that he had slept with most of the female clerks in the building – and he was a hopeless narcissist.

"Good afternoon, Deputy Minister", she says in a neutral voice.

"Azel", he says. "_You_ may call me Azel."

"Right", she says as she bites her tongue to keep from uttering a flippant response to his statement. She had wanted to call him Azzol, but it probably wouldn't do her any good to piss off one of the 10 most important men in the region.

She decides that the best thing to do is not to say anything more. Instead, she refocuses her concentration on finishing her filing. She hopes that her non-conversational mood will convince him to go away.

"You know", he says and she is disappointed to hear his voice again, "you are not like the other women here. _They_ are genuinely glad to see me."

Well, she thought. He may be an egotist but, unfortunately, he's fairly observant.

"But you", he continues, "even though you know who I am, my rank, my power, you refuse even my most innocent of advances." He pauses to give to give a dramatic edge to his next statement. "That's impressive. That means that you know your worth."

She looks down and sees that she still has 2 files left to put in their places.

For a second, she debates if she should put them back in her bag, push past Azel, and get the heck out of the building. But, she steadies herself. She refuses to be intimidated.

When she still doesn't say anything, Azel says casually, "You know - I have knowledge, power that would be of use to you."

She knows that his last statement is very true. However, she also knows herself well enough to know that she is not willing to pay the price he's asking in order to get those things, so she remains silent unwilling to take the bait.

However Azel interprets her silence as an invitation to prove himself.

"I just learned that the rebels have advanced within 300 miles of the city", he announces gleefully. He is proud of the fact that he is one of only a handful of people with this information.

But his statement doesn't impress Kem, rather it sends a shock through her heart.

"They've never come closer than 1000 miles in the past", she says worriedly.

"True. They are proving to be quite cunning and resourceful as of late. They've even be able to quicken their advance to a rate of 10-15 miles a day with this latest foray. But no worries, the government is laying a trap that will crush them when they get 100 miles out."

Now all warning bells had been sounded in her mind.

"The government is deliberately going to let them get within a hundred miles of the city?" she asks in disbelief.

He hears the concern in her voice and he tries to comfort her. "At a hundred miles away, there is only the remotest of possibilities that the fighting will even affect the city. Even if they did get closer, everyone is certain that they would not attack Kisangani. They simply don't have the resources necessary to accomplish such a feat," he says in a firm and unworried tone.

"Yes, but the refugee camp…" she says before she is interrupted.

"Refugee camp?" he asks in a puzzled voice.

"Yes, the one that houses 6000 people", she says. She is miffed because this 'powerful' man has chosen to have amnesia about the condition of so many people in his region.

"Oh…", he says dismissively. "The camp is only 10 miles outside of town, which means that it is still a great distance away from the fighting", he says as he hopes to curtail any further protests from her.

"Yes, but _now_ it potentially sits in the middle of two warring factions. And, unlike Kisangani, the camp is easy prey should the government's plan fail", she says defiantly.

However, she can tell from the look on his face that she has not had any luck in getting him to understand the danger for the refugees.

She pauses as she thinks of a new tactic to try with him.

"Will the military be able to evacuate the camps in time?" she asks in a hopeful tone.

He scoffs before he answers her. "The military is busy fighting a war. They can't possibly spare the resources at this time for such an effort."

"Well, will your office make this information known to the camp's inhabitants should the rebels advance closer to the city?" she asks. She is careful to keep her tone musical and friendly, which is difficult because his nonchalance about these people's fates is making her feel bitter and disgusted. Even so, she knows that expressing those emotions won't help those people.

"We'll make some announcements on T.V. and in the paper. Send out some runners to the camp", but he as he says this he is waving his hand in a nonchalant gesture which indicates that nothing will be done. His tone and gesture demonstrate to her that those people's fates really don't concern him at all.

"Without the assistance of the military, of the government, where will these people go?" she says in a soft, imploring voice as she tries gently to remind him to act mercifully.

"They will go will they _always_ go…somewhere else", he replies indifferently.

She bites back the urge to call him the worst part of a monkey's bottom, and instead, gives him a slight nod.

She turns away from him as she concentrates on filing the records as fast as is humanely possible so that she can get out of there.

Azel realizes that she has actually been offended by his last remarks, and he raises his eyebrows in mild disgust. He had meant for his knowledge of the rebels' gains to impress her, and not for it to be used as a pretext for a debate over government policy.

He continues staring at her as she goes about her work.

He starts to think about how much he desires this woman or, more to the point, how much he desires what this woman can do for him. However, her streak of idealism combined with an uncompromising independence is something that he finds very unhealthy; especially in a woman.

He is convinced that her parents failed in her upbringing. However, he is equally convinced that she can still be taught the correct way to behave and that he is just the man to teach her. As he finishes this last thought, he starts to advance towards Kem.

He has shared valuable information with her, now it is time for her to share with him - nothing much just a touch…or two.

Kem feels the coolness of the shadow cast by his 6'1 frame as he closes the small space between her and the door. She jumps quickly to her feet and takes a few steps back until she is close to the side wall and cannot move any further.

He stops as he takes the time to relish her predicament, and she looks into his eyes. As she peers deeply into them she understands.

He wants to touch her. He means to touch her. And, although, she might be able to kick and bite him, there is little else that her 5'1 90 lb. frame would be able to do about it.

He would have what he wanted and her efforts would not be able to stop him.


	7. Chapter 7 See Complications Part II

This story is continued in Chapter 7 of "Complications Part II" which was posted on 9/14/05.


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